


Course Correction

by IronSwordStarShield (SweetFanfics)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (MCD BUT IT'S A HAPPY ENDING PLEASE TRUST ME), (the bond happens because they're soulmates), 99 percent canon compliant, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Canonical Character Death, Multi, Natasha Lives, POV Alternating, POV Steve Rogers, POV Tony Stark, Telepathic Bond, kind of oblivious steve rogers, polyamory happy ending, stevetony is endgame-endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 05:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18888502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/IronSwordStarShield
Summary: He shakes Tony's hand and swears to himself, this is one promise he'll keep to Tony; they'll win and he'll bring Tony back to his family, safe and sound.--It's never too late to fix your mistakes and find your happiness.--13K+ words of me starting off with angst, taking a detour into steve feels, and doing an aggressive u-turn on my decision to be as firmly canon compliant as possible because I couldn’t not do a happy ending





	Course Correction

**Author's Note:**

> So this originally began as a couple of tweets like 4 days ago that were inspired by some AOU gifs Krusca was tweeting because I wanted to poke around in Tony's head about the post-CACW events and Endgame. Tony said "I need you" and then Steve wasn't there. I just wanted it to be quick and extra angsty. 
> 
> But then I was asked for more and I had inspiration for more and I wrote a whopping 4.6K LIVE on twitter. And I realized, the story still wasn't complete. So I took two days (cut out the Eurovision screaming time) and wrapped it up nice and proper. And this is the result.
> 
> This wasn't thought out in terms of plot, I was making this up as I went along. But still. I'm very terribly pleased with this. And I hope it makes y'all cry a couple of times.

At his lowest moments, Tony uses BARF to relive the fight in Siberia. He takes all the hits, all the punches, because he’s got a masochistic streak a mile wide. But that’s not why he revisits this moment. It’s the part that follows after Steve breaks his arc reactor (How Tony _tries_ not to think of that as a metaphor). Tony takes great satisfaction in screaming all his vitriol - all his hate, anger, HURT - at Steve's back, and seeing Steve's shoulder twitch up with guilt. He doesn’t stop at telling Steve that he’s not worthy. No. Tony goes further.

 

But ultimately, his rage stays between him and Steve’s ghost.

 

\--

 

"You said TOGETHER," Tony wants to yell into the phone in the first few weeks.

 

"I trusted you," he wants to confess in the weeks after that when his guilt weighs him down.

 

"You're a God damned liar, you fucking hypocrite." he realizes out of the blue.

 

 _I still care_. Tony keeps those three words in under his tongue.

 

\--

 

"I should have tried harder," he tells Rhodey one night. Tony gets gently slapped up the head for it before Rhodey pulls him in for a tight side hug.

 

"I should have done more," he whispers into Pepper’s shoulder as they lie in bed.

 

"You've done more than what was asked of you," they both tell him.

 

He doesn't believe them. There's always more he could have done. He's proven right when he faces Thanos on an alien planet.

 

It wasn't enough. His best wasn't good enough.

 

\--

 

United we stand, divided we fall.

 

\--

 

Space is terribly similar to the desert. This is knowledge Tony could have done without. At least he’s not alone this time. Nebula's good company; socially awkward but sweet underneath all that gruff and metal. And they have supplies, limited as they are.

 

\--

 

21 days without a lot to do on a spaceship gives Tony too much free time to look back at his life and tear it to shreds under the sharp knife of "what if."

 

What if he’d tried harder to keep the team in New York after the Chitauri attack? What if he’d picked up Bruce and gone to Washington after SHIELD fell? What if he'd run the idea of Ultron past Steve before making him? What if he'd told them about what Wanda had made him see? What if he'd said something different to Steve at the airport?

 

~~_ What if Steve had trusted me the way I trusted Steve? _ ~~

 

\--

 

21 days gives Tony too much time to list his regrets and grieve.

 

\--

 

Day 22: Tony says his goodbye’s.

 

He picks the best spot in the ship, the cockpit, leaves his last message for Pepper. Tells Rhodey not to worry. Hesitates so long over saying something for Steve that his helmet beeps softly; low battery warning. Tony deliberately doesn’t say anything, letting the helmet die instead. He lies down on the cold floor and thinks of Pepper. Her red hair, her freckled face, her unending, unerring belief in him. In his heart. That backless blue dress. Her crisp white suit. The way her red hair lightened under the sun, looking almost blonde.

 

Blue, red, white.

 

Tony’s brain drifts.

 

If this is how he’ll die, it’s not so bad. It’s peaceful and he’s got the people he love on his mind.

 

\--

 

That’s not part of the grand plan apparently.

 

\--

 

Tony barely remembers the journey back. He’s passed out for most of it.

 

He recalls the woman on fire hovering outside the ship. Tony wakes up to the sensation of the ship juddering as they enter Earth’s atmosphere. He remembers how crippling relief had felt when the Avengers compound had come into view. He staggers when the sweet smell of grass hit his nose. When Steve races across the yard and takes him off Nebula’s shoulder, concern written all over his handsome face. When Pepper flies into his arms, warm, alive, still smelling faintly of her favorite perfume? Tony closes his eyes and tries not to burst into relieved, grateful tears.

 

\--

 

The next day is like a train wreck.

 

He hasn't slept; couldn't. He hasn't eaten; can't. He's hyper aware of the needle under his skin; Tony wants to rip the damn cannula off. The fact that he’s in a wheelchair with an IV bag next to him aggravates him as well.

 

But he bears it. That thought sends a new spike of anger shooting down Tony's spine. Because that's what he does with these people, doesn't he? He _bears_ with shit he doesn't want to. He bears the consequences of their actions, cleaning up after them. He bears their scorn for no God damned good reason when all he wants to do is the right fucking thing. He bears their derision even after the fact that he was _right_. Years ago.

 

Tony drowns in his anger, letting it wash over him; baptism by fire. He seethes quietly, soaking in his wounded pride and hurt until Steve, fucking Steve, talks to him like everything’s hunky dory and he didn’t betray Tony’s trust years ago. Where does he get off talking about what Tony “needs” to do? The _nerve_ of this guy. Tony doesn't remember the last time he lost control so spectacularly, where he let venom spew out instead of choking it down until it clogged his veins.

 

He remembers how he used BARF to vent his feelings. Reality is so much better than anything he'd ever imagined. He sees the way Steve clenches his jaw, regret holding his tongue at bay. He sees the pain in Steve's eyes and thinks, _good. You deserve it. I’m calling you out for your mistakes. Face them you coward._

 

“Liar,” Tony tells him before he curls his fingers around his RT, rips it out, slaps it Steve’s cold hands, and forces them to close. His stomach twists, the pettiest part of him cheers at the wide-eyed horror that blooms in Steve’s eyes at the act.

 

 _Good_ , Tony thinks. "You take that, and you hide." Tony tells him.

 

And like a puppet with its strings cut, Tony falls. The world swims out of focus. It goes dark. It stays dark.

 

\--

 

Before, people tried to make Steve feel unworthy because he was sickly, weak, bullheaded; because of his body. He ignored them because he knew your worth wasn't determined by anything except your intentions and your heart.

 

How had he forgotten that? At what point had he let his ego blind him? When had he stopped _listening_?

 

He's not a good man. What kind of a good man would make the mistakes he's made?

 

\--

 

Natasha shoots him a pitying look. "We all make mistakes, Steve. We all fuck up."

 

"Not like this," Steve quietly points out.

 

She doesn’t say anything but she _does_ make a face as she takes a long sip of her beer. "You're only human. You're not perfect. If you think you've made a mistake? You fix it."

 

“It’s not that simple,” he argues back.

 

“Why not?”

 

“It just...isn’t.”

 

\--

 

It’s the biggest mistake of his life and Steve tries to analyze it from every angle to figure out where he went wrong. He knows what he’d do differently given another chance. He knows he’d listen to Tony, he wouldn’t argue so hard, he’d go to Tony for help.

 

But all of that doesn’t matter because Steve doesn’t have an answer to the biggest question of them all: why didn’t he tell Tony the truth when he had the chance?

 

\--

 

Literally and metaphorically, Steve hides. He and his team stay in the shadows; serving as vigilantes fighting crime where ever it pops up. Sometimes they’re welcome. Sometimes they’re not. A lot of times they’re not.

 

An old man angrily yells at them, gesturing for them to leave the village. “You come here, you bring death with you! We don’t want your help! We don’t want to die because of your fights! Go!”

 

They try to argue their case but the villagers don’t want to listen. They toss rocks, sticks, eggs, stale pieces of bread at them, yelling at them to leave.

 

“So much for gratitude,” Wanda grumbles when they’re back in the quinjet, picking twigs out of her hair.

 

Steve doesn’t say anything. He keeps his eyes on the village, waiting. As T’challa’s intel had said, a band of terrorists show up in the middle of the night. They scramble out of their beds and head out to help. They’re stopped again at the outskirts of the village, this time by armed villagers who angrily tell them, “We don’t need your help! We can protect ourselves.”

 

He's sorry to say that he doubts it.

 

He’s ashamed of himself when they prove him wrong.

 

\--

 

They don’t see Thanos coming. None of them do.

 

_Liar_ , a voice in his head reminds him. _Tony knew. Tony warned us years ago. We didn’t listen._

 

Steve wishes Tony was here with them. It doesn’t feel right going up against Thanos’ army without all the Avengers there. Thanos is the biggest threat Earth, _the universe_ , has ever known. And their team is divided.

 

_And who’s fault is that?_ Steve ignores that. This isn’t the time or the place.

 

The thought occurs to him again when he kneels in the ashes of his best friend, lungs stuttering as panic swells in his chest.

 

This is his fault.

 

If he hadn’t...

 

If he’d just...

 

“Oh God,” Steve chokes out.

 

What’ve they done?

 

\--

 

His guilt transforms in the aftermath of Decimation. If previously, his guilt had dripped off his fingertips and tainted everything with bitterness, now it's a beast and he's speared on it's fangs; helpless and dying a slow death. 

 

This is the ultimate consequence of his selfish, unthinking actions. Steve nurses his regrets, prodding and poking his bleeding wounds, stopping them from healing. He'll punish himself if no one else will. He'll also _pray_ to anyone that's listening that please. Please let Tony Stark have survived.

 

They need him now more than ever.

 

\--

 

When Carol arrives, toting a spaceship on her back, Steve feels hopes for the first time in three weeks. They all hold their collective breath as the ramp drops.

 

"Tony," Pepper breathes out as soon as he's in sight. Steve's literally a step ahead, legs eating up the length between them, heart in his throat.

 

_Thank you, thank you, thank you!_ Steve almost cries with relief when Tony sags against his body. A sob catches in his throat when Tony’s startled eyes meet his and he doesn’t draw away. He accepts Steve’s aid.

 

Tony looks awful, too pale, gaunt, sickly. He smells like bitter sweat and dried blood. But he's alive. That's all that matters. Steve doesn't feel jealous or envious or hurt when he Tony's pained expression turn into rapture as he hugs Pepper, wetness clinging to his dark lashes.

 

\--

 

It's hard looking at Tony in the light of day. If he looked sickly last night, he looks on the edge of death now. And then Steve _can’t_ look away. He can't move. He doesn’t dare to breathe when Tony rips his IV out and staggers up to him, angry and confrontational in a way Steve's never seen.

 

Steve feels six inches tall in the face of Tony's righteous anger. He doesn't argue back; can't. He bites the inside of his bottom lip to stop it from trembling when Tony says, "I got nothing for you, Cap."

 

His anguish turns to horror when Tony rips his arc reactor off and slaps it into Steve's hand. And passes out seconds later, drained of his anger, breaking the spell he’d put on them.

 

Rhodey takes Tony away. Steve's left standing there, staring at the RT and it's dim light, thinking about broken hearts and how in this case...the analogy is apt. He's never considered himself callous but holding Tony's 'broken heart' in his hand? Steve's never felt more of an asshole.

 

"Fuck," he curses in the empty room.

 

\--

 

Steve tries to give the RT back to Pepper but she refuses.

 

“Give it back yourself,” she tells him, not unkindly but not offering him the easy way out either.

 

But he doesn't have the courage to step into Tony's room. Steve can’t do anything more than hover at the edge of Tony’s room, behind the doorway, check the monitors through the glass walls to make sure he’s doing okay, and leave. It doesn't feel like he has the right to approach Tony...

 

So, Steve wraps the RT in soft tissue paper, puts it in a box, and hides it in his dresser; out of sight, out of mind.

 

\--

 

Before he leaves several weeks later, Tony tells them he's done being an Avenger. He glares at Steve, challenging him to stop Tony. But Steve doesn't.

 

"We understand," he says instead. Steve thinks he sees a flash of disappointment in Tony's eyes but Steve realizes he's projecting.

 

Tony nods stiffly, takes Pepper’s hand, turns to Rhodey, and asks, “Walk me out, Rhodey?”

 

\--

 

A year passes. The first anniversary of the Decimation is week away and Steve sends Tony an email invitation to join them at the compound. Everyone will be there for the memorial, he writes in the email, even Nebula and Rocket are flying in. Steve hopes against hope Tony will join them. But Tony politely declines, saying he's already committed to attending another memorial, a Stark Industries one in the city.

 

Steve receives that email ten minutes before he’s supposed to lead the first group therapy session for his survivors group. Steve stares at his phone, at Tony's email, and lets out a shallow breath. To say that he’s disappointed would be an understatement. Steve had hoped that maybe...maybe a year would be enough time to-

 

He looks up when someone clears their throat. A dark skinned man hovers uncertainly in the doorway, shoulders hunched. “Is this...the therapy group for survivors of the Decimation?" the man hesitantly asks.

 

Steve tucks him phone away with a smile. "Yes. Welcome."

 

\--

 

A few months later, he walks in on Natasha and Rhodey grinning down at a tablet. Keen to know what's got them in a good mood, Steve asks, "What're you guys looking at?"

 

Natasha turns the screen towards him. It's a picture of a baby swaddled in a green blanket -dark haired, pink cheeked, and sleep sweet.

 

"Cute kid," Steve says for the lack of anything better.

 

"She’s Tony’s," Natasha's grin widens, eyes sparkling.

 

Steve's heart stutters, tripping over its feet and pinwheeling as it tries to regain it's balance. He glances at Rhodey, noticing the wariness in his dark eyes. "Tony's...really?"

 

"Yeah. Pepper gave birth a couple of hours ago."

 

"Oh."

 

Steve hadn't even known they were expecting... Unaware of the storm building in Steve, Natasha swipes to the right and shows Steve another picture. Pepper and Tony are pressed close together on a hospital bed, their baby resting on Pepper's chest. Pepper looks exhausted but radiant. Tony's grinning ear-to-ear; Steve's never seen him look so proud and happy. He's got his arm around Pepper. The ring on his left index finger gleams under the hospital lights.

 

 _Oh_ , Steve realizes with a miserable twist in his gut. They _had_ gotten married then. He hadn't...wow. He hadn't even been invited. Had... _any_ of them been invited even? Steve glances over at Natasha, who is moving between the pictures with a smile on her face. He’d have thought that Tony would _at least_ invite her...

 

"We were thinking we should get them a gift,” Rhodey is saying. “Something from the whole team. Got any ideas?"

 

Steve shakes his head, numbness creeping over him.

 

Natasha’s busy cooing at the tablet. "I can't get over how  _adorable_ she is. She's got Tony's nose."

 

"Let's hope she doesn't get his mouth," Rhodey jokes.

 

"Whatever you decide, let me know. I'll pitch in too," Steve manages to tell the pair, still feeling incredibly wrong footed. He spends the rest of the day in his office in a stunned daze. The next day, he sends Tony and Pepper a congratulatory text. Pepper replies with her thanks. Tony leaves him on read.

 

\--

 

Life, such as it is, moves on. They make the best of what they have., picking up the pieces and remaking them into something that works. Steve tries to find the silver lining wherever possible. Every new birth is a celebration. Mother Nature proves her resilience. Governments regain their footing. People make new routines.

 

Life goes on.

 

\--

 

He tells Natasha one night that they're the kind of people who don't move on. The universe must agree with him because Scott Lang shows up at their door, bringing a possible solution to fix everything. Listening to Scott babble in between bites, Steve dares to hope. His first instinct is to go to Tony for help. He realizes it’s selfish to drop in unannounced but who else can they go to? Who else comes even _close_ to Tony’s intellect and ability; who could solve this conundrum?

 

Natasha reassures him that Tony won't be mad. “He’ll be glad to see us.”

 

Steve wants to ask, even him? After five years of complete radio silence? But he doesn’t. He's too scared of the answer. Instead, Steve hopes for the best and takes care to dress nicely because Steve wants to look good. He tells himself it's because they hadn't seen each other in years and Steve wants to make a good first impression.

 

That's it and nothing more.

 

\--

 

Fatherhood looks good on Tony. It is absolutely the best version of Tony Stark. Steve looks at the dark haired girl tucked against her father's chest and feels so much envy he's surprised he doesn't turn green like the Hulk.

 

Tony invites them to dinner but Steve turns the offer down, “We don’t want to intrude.”

 

Tony gives him an inscrutable look but shrugs, broad hand resting on his daughter's small back. “Suit yourself.”

 

They return to the compound without Tony.

 

"I don't blame him," Scott confesses as they get out of the car. "I'd do the same thing if it was me and Cassie."

 

Natasha pulls her phone away from her ear and asks, "Bruce says we can meet up tomorrow. That work for you guys?"

 

"When and where," Steve tells the red-head, who goes back to talking into her phone, before he turns back to Scott. "I wouldn't give up on Tony just yet."

 

Scott's brow dip in puzzlement. "You think he'll help?"

 

"He will."

 

"How do you know?"

 

"I just do."

 

It's who Tony is; it's who they are. Steve and Tony might not have a lot in common. But neither of them can stand on the side lines and let things go south.

 

\--

 

Steve's faith in Tony is justified when he shows up at the compound two days later having cracked time travel. Steve can't help but smile because he knew Tony would do it, would return, would want to help. But he realizes he’s _still_ underestimated Tony Stark and his heart, his capacity for forgiveness, when the man pulls a familiar shield out from his car trunk. The sight of those concentric circles brings back memories of striking that shield against Tony’s armor, cracking his arc reactor. Steve shies away, uncertain if he deserves it.

 

“It’s yours,” Tony urges him softly, holding the shield out for him to wear. He’s giving Steve his blessing; telling Steve it’s okay; he does deserve the mantle.

 

Tony holds the disc steady as Steve hesitantly slides it on his arm, heart in his throat. It’s like reuniting with an old friend. Steve smiles shakily and puts every ounce of gratitude he’s feeling into his next words, “Thank you, Tony.”

 

He shakes Tony's hand and swears to himself, this is one promise he'll keep to Tony; they'll win and he'll bring Tony back to his family, safe and sound.

 

\--

 

For the first time in five years, Steve feels like he's living instead of surviving. The compound feels like a train station as people hurry around, working towards a defined purpose. It’s a stark contrast to the mausoleum feeling that had clung to the building for the past five years. He wonders if that’s how Tony felt about the compound in the aftermath of their fight...Steve shakes the depressing thought away.

 

Steve hasn't felt more at home here than he does at night when they all sit down for a meal. There's bantering, teasing, conversation, arguing. They feel like family, in a way the old team didn't. The thought leaves him feeling guilty. Guilt is a specter that haunts him, trailing its chilly fingertips over his arms and whispering his crimes in his ears.

 

_You're the reason Scott didn't see his daughter grow up._ _Clint lost his family because of you._   _Wakanda would still have their king and princess if it wasn't for you._

 

Steve walks into the living room one night and finds Tony Facetiming someone; his daughter, as it turns out. He freezes half-way into the room, guilt needling him again because Tony could be at home with his family instead of-

 

"Cap!" Tony calls out in obvious surprise. "Thought you had that call with Natasha?"

 

Steve's about to say he bailed on that when Tony's daughter chirps, "Captain America? Is that him, daddy?"

 

"Yes, it is,” Tony turns his attention back to his phone in a heartbeat. “You wanna talk to him?"

 

Terror floods Steve for some stupid reason. He’s never met Tony’s daughter. What’s he supposed to say? Like okay, he’s met other kids before but this is _Morgan_. He frantically shaking his head and whispering, "No! Tony! I don't know what to say to her!"

 

"She's a regular kid, Cap. Say hi to your Uncle Steve, kiddo." Tony plonks the phone into Steve’s nervous hand. He gets a flashback of when Tony slapped his RT into Steve’s hand and stupidly thinks, _parallels_.

 

"Hi Uncle Steve!" Morgan obediently parrots back. The dark haired girl grins at him, beguiling and sweet. "Can I ask you something?"

 

"Sure, anything."

 

"Can I have your shield please? Daddy said I could use it the next time it snows."

 

Steve blinks in surprise because...he thought Tony'd been kidding about that.

 

Tony snort laughs, pressing into his side to come into the screen. "Morgan..."

 

"But you said I could ask him if I could borrow it!" the girl whines.

 

Tony looks ready to tease her when Steve leans back in to tell her, "You can have it Morgan. I'm gonna use it one last time and I'll ask your dad to bring it back. How's that sound?"

 

The girl looks like Christmas came early. "Promise?"

 

"I promise. I’ll let you talk with your dad, okay?”

 

“Okay, thank you Uncle Steve.”

 

Tony chats with her for a couple of minutes; reminding Morgan to be good, listen to her mom, and go to bed on time. When he hangs up on her, Tony’s got the fondest smile on his handsome face. Steve can't help but stare.

 

"She's a great kid," Steve he finds himself saying.

 

"The greatest," Tony's eyes sparkle with happiness. It dims however when he turns to face Steve and asks, "One last time?"

 

Ah. Yeah.... _that_. Steve feels his good mood slip away with a shrug. He doesn't know how to explain that he's bone weary and needs a break. He needs time to rest. ~~(He wants love...)~~

 

Steve squirms a little under Tony's piercing gaze but doesn't crack.

 

Finally, Tony gently slaps his back. "I think I get it."

 

And walks away.

 

Puzzled, curious, and relieved all together, Steve asks Tony's back, "You do?"

 

Tony looks over his shoulder and nods. Steve's surprised. Shocked. He'd thought Tony would be angry instead of understanding. That he'd ask for the shield back. Take his trust back. But here he is, showing he gets it. Steve's grateful all over again. The gratitude swells, multiples, grows. He finds himself turning more and more to Tony as the days pass, asking for his input, listening carefully, following his guidance. Defining a new path to a better future.

 

\--

 

Steve wonders if they could have this earlier. It’s a sad realization that yeah. They could have if they'd all tried harder, if they'd made different choices. But he can begin to make up for it now. "I trust you," he tells Tony when things go to shit in 2012. With every part of me, Steve doesn't say.

 

 _I wish I'd told you a lot of things sooner,_ Steve thinks as they sneak into SHIELD in 1970.

 

 _I wish I hadn't been so fixated on what I'd lost that I didn't see what I'd gained,_ Steve realizes as they mourn Clint’s death. His sacrifice.

 

 _I wish this works out,_ Steve prays, holding his breath as Bruce slides the gauntlet they’ve made on.

 

A snap. A collective breath is held in anticipation and exhaled in relief.

 

And then their world turns upside down.

 

\--

 

It's a fight for survival; us vs them. And their backs are against the wall. But Steve'd forgotten, thinking only of the next punch, the next kick, the next hurt he'll lay on Thanos, that he forgets the snap had worked. All their friends walk onto the battlefield, golden sparks haloing their silhouettes. It’s the single most incredible sight he’s seen in his life, all these people, these superheroes, who have come to fight. Steve grins as everyone rallies around him. He calls mjolnir back to him, calling out, as loud as he can, “ **Avengers**!”

 

The world holds its breath, poised to strike.

 

Steve stares across the field at Thanos and rasps, “Assemble.”

 

With a battle cry that’d strike fear into anyone’s heart, they charge anew into battle, with renewed hope. Steve leads the charge with several others. Through all the war cries, Steve hears the familiar roar-whine of repulsors zinging by overhead. He grins as Iron Man soars ahead of them all and blows up a small Chitauri ship. 

 

\--

 

Surprisingly and unsurprisingly, it boils down to Tony and Thanos. T’challa, Carol, and Peter have somehow managed to get the gauntlet to Tony after Thanos destroys Scott’s van, taking away their only way to send Thanos back to his time. Their only hope now is to snap Thanos out of existence before he can do that to them.

 

Steve sees Thanos grab Tony, grappling with him as they both try to grab the gauntlet first. Steve’s body reacts to the dread that fills him, mjolnir clearing a path through the mass of bodies as he runs towards Tony. Steve yells Tony's name when he sees Thanos punch him aside, cold gripping him when he realizes that Thanos has slipped the gauntlet on. Tony throws himself on top of Thanos, hands scratching against the Infinity gauntlet as he tries and fails to rip the gauntlet off the alien’s hand.

 

“ _No!_ ” Steve cries out as Thanos shoves Tony aside and presses his fingers together. _No, no, no! No! Not again! Please not again!_

 

But nothing happens.

 

Even Thanos looks confused, not sure why the stones haven’t fulfilled his wish. Thanos turns his hand around and understands why he’s failed; the slots where the stones rest, are empty. He turns around to look at Tony.

 

 _No, no, no!_ Steve laments as he pushes himself to his limits, understanding what Tony did a second before Thanos does. There's barely ten feet between him and Tony. And sure enough, Steve can see six sparkling gems sliding into place on Tony's armored hand. Those ten feet might as well the Grand Canyon but Steve makes himself run faster, pushing himself to his limits, until he feels the strain in his muscles.

 

_Please let me reach him, please._

 

 This is the **one** promise he’s not going to break.

 

Steve falls to his knees, sliding through the soft, upturned earth to crash into Tony's side. Miraculously, they don’t topple over; they tilt dangerously but don’t fall thanks to Tony throws his around around Steve's body. Steve grabs Tony's right hand, clasping their hands together, fingers linked. Out of breath, heart in his throat, Steve tells a shocked Tony, "Together. Win or lose."

 

Brown eyes stare back at him; surprise transforming into elation into determination. Tony presses his fingers together. Nods. 

 

"Together," he agrees breathlessly, "we'll win."

 

 

 

 _Please,_ Steve pleads as he holds Tony’s gaze.

 

Thanos bellows in rage as Tony snaps his fingers.

 

_I'll take all the hurt. Whatever it costs. B_ _ut_ _spare him._

 

\--

 

The world goes white, pure and blinding.

 

It’s accompanied by a ringing sound that pierces Steve’s ears. It rises in pitch and intensity until it's a wonder his ears aren't bleeding. Through it however, he hears a voice. It sounds like his Ma. His Da. An old crone. A young boy. A whisper in a crowd. A cacophony of screams. It’s everything and nothing. The cosmos itself; matter and antimatter. It's the stones themselves.

 

"What do you want Steve Rogers?" they ask him.

 

The question comes from all around him. He can’t see but he turns anyways, trying to face...something. Someone.

 

"I want to keep my promise," he answers. "I told Tony he’d go back to his family."

 

If it means Tony going back home, Steve will happily offer his life in return. Someone, everyone, laughs. Softly, gently, bitterly, mockingly.

 

"That is exactly what he is saying too."

 

_Tony? Does she...do they mean Tony? Is Tony trying to bargain for his life? No! He can't!_

 

 _You can't tell me together and then take it all on yourself,_ Steve suddenly hears Tony's voice with crystal clear clarity in his head. And wow, he sounds _pissed_.

 

 _And_ **_you_ ** _need to stop being a self-sacrificing_ **_jerk_ ** _,_ Steve can't help but snap back. _You've got a family to think of!_

 

_Don't you fucking_ **_dare_ ** _tell me-_

 

 Steve interrupts him however, desperately wanting Tony to _understand_. 

 

_The world needs you Tony._

 

_And they don't need Captain America?_

 

_There can always be another Captain America._

 

Without missing a beat, Tony retorts, _But there won't be another Steve Rogers. And the world needs every good man and woman in it._ Steve's suddenly aware of his body and how there's a hand gripping his shoulder. _Come on. Let's split the bill._

 

 _You won’t be able to take it. I can though. The serum will protect me._ The next thought pops up unbidden and there’s no hiding it from Tony. _I don't want to see you hurt._

  

Steve feels a flash of gratified surprise. It sparks an embarrassed happiness in the pit of his stomach. He senses Tony's agreement more than anything else. The stones, the universe, whoever it is they're bargaining with, titters.

 

"As you wish," they says.

 

\--

 

Steve comes back into his body with a gasp. Pain consumes him immediately. He’d thought gaining his powers back through Project Rebirth had been an awful experience. He thought he _knew_ pain. But this is worse, so much worse. His right side is on fire, on ice, being ripped apart, being compressed, all at the same time. Steve clutches his shoulder and sends a fresh wave of pain through his body.

 

"Steve! Steve!" he hears someone calling. "You need to see this."

 

_See what?_

 

Breathing hard, Steve forces his eyes open. Tony’s concerned face hovers over him. He's whole and unhurt, worry bleeding out of him but it’s tempered with something greater. Like there's energy gathering in him. Steve tries to understand what it is when it clicks. And for a split second, forgets his pain.

 

"We did it," Tony whispers.

 

Thanos the mad Titan watches his destiny, his great plan, literally turn to dust before he too crumbles to ash.

 

They've done it. They've won.

 

Steve turns to Tony, incredulity winning over every other emotion. Tony's staring back, a wild grin spreading over his face. Joy pierces through the his pain. Tony’s grip on Steve's good shoulder tightens. He laughs and pulls Steve's good side in for a hug.

 

"We did it!" Tony all but yells in triumph.

  
_Screw the pain,_ Steve thinks dizzily as he pulls Tony closer. _It was worth it._

 

He almost jumps out of his skin when shock slaps against him and he hears Tony in his head, very intelligently asking, _What the_ **_fuck?_ **

 

Steve winds up on his back in the dirt, hissing when he accidentally falls on his bad arm. It's instinctual to roll on his good side, bad arm curled into his side. Steve curses a blue streak a mile wide at how badly this hurts.  _How the fuck had Bruce managed to bear this? This hurts like Hell but worse!_

 

"Wow....That's..." Steve hears Tony say cautiously. "That'd make some sailors blush, Cap."

 

Steve blinks through his pained tears up at Tony and asks, "What the fuck?"

 

\--

 

So, turns out, along with half his body being basically magically deep fried, so to speak, ( _God, I hate that you call it that._ _You got a better word for it?_ ) Steve and Tony are now telepathically connected.

 

This leads to the following:

 

Because Steve’s in near constant pain for ten straight days and they don’t have enough strong sedatives to keep him under, Tony sleeps like shit and is extremely cranky as a result. Thankfully, at least physical pain doesn’t transfer through their connection. Tony takes some sedatives in the hopes that the effect will transfer over but it's weak at best. So handling all that pain without sedatives? It’s brutal.

 

They also learn that distance doesn’t dampen their connection; Tony returns to his home but he hears Steve’s pained thoughts with crystal clear clarity. This leads to distracted wonderings from Tony’s side about testing the bond to find out what else can they learn. They quickly gain fascinating new insights into each others brains. Steve is amazed not only by the speed at which Tony’s brain works but also the intuitive leaps of logic he makes and the sheer amount of _ideas_ that permeate his mind at any given time. It kind of makes him feel like a grunting neanderthal in comparison. ( _Didn’t we talk about self-deprecating comments?_ _Sorry_ ). They’d realized in a couple of hours that along with the telepathic connection, there was a fair amount of emotional bleed-over as well. Neither of their personalities were exactly fiery but a strong emotion, even if it was a quick burst of annoyance at having bumped into a table, echoed to the other person.

 

Another realization, embarrassing and awkward, is Tony putting words to Steve’s feelings towards the older man. The stress ball Steve’s been working in his right hand slips through his fingers, rolling off his bed and into a corner while Steve stares in stricken silence at Tony. Here’s the thing. Steve’s not surprised he’s got feelings for Tony. It makes sense when he thinks about it. No, the shock comes from the fact that he wasn’t able to recognize his own emotions. And that’s _really_ embarrassing.

 

Tony’s barreling on, eyes locked on a spot left of Steve’s face, “I’m flattered. I really am. How many people can say they had Captain America crushing on them?”

 

_It’s not just a crush_ , Steve can’t stop himself from thinking, helplessly, oh so helplessly. His feelings aren’t that frivolous or fleeting.

 

Tony ignores him, babbling away, “If I was ten years younger. Well, that’s not right. I was with Pepper back then. Let’s say 15 years younger..."

 

Why doesn't the universe just crown him King of Missed Chances already and get it over with? With a weary sigh borne from too much experience, Steve interrupts Tony’s nervous speech, “You don’t have to do that.”

 

Dark eyes flick to him before turning away.  _Do what?_

 

_Spare my feelings._

 

 “I get it. I never planned on telling you either I mean. Pepper’s amazing and Morgan’s...perfect. They’re your whole world.”

 

Steve feels the tentative press of Tony's mind against his own and lets him see; he means it.

 

_It's okay. I really do get it. I care for you but I know it can’t go anywhere. I’ve been rejected before_. _Stings like Hell but I’ll deal with it._

 

A peculiar emotion rolls through Tony at that. It's frustration, speculation, hope. As quick as they pop up, Tony pulls back, hiding the rest of his thoughts from Steve. He’s been getting better and better at that. Steve can’t help but press back, wondering what’s Tony trying to hide. It feels like poking a wall of Jell-O. Tony’s husky laugh echos in his head.

   
_Jell-O?_

  
_Yeah. How are you doing that anyways?_

 

_Imagine a wall, the strongest wall you can think of, and put it around your thoughts. That’s what I’m doing anyways._

 

Steve closes his eyes imagining the same. He imagines an electric fence protecting his thoughts, keeping them safe. Tony’s mind presses against his.

   
_I think you’re trying too hard. That or you need a different mental image..._

 

With a tired sigh, Steve gives up. He’ll practice that later. The healing scars on the side of his face itch. Tony wordlessly leans over to pick up the mint balm Bruce had given Steve to help with the burns. Steve’s a little taken aback when Tony unscrews the cap and asks, “Want me to put it on?”

 

 _Is this a pity thing?_ Steve warily asks.

 

_It’s a “you make a damn mess of this every time you try to put it one so I’ll help you” thing._

 

 _Touchy,_ Steve laughs quietly. “Thank you. I’d appreciate the help.”

 

There’s a beat where Tony asks, with uncharacteristic hesitation,  _Is it okay if I sit on the bed? It’ll be easier..._

 

_Oh. Sure._

 

Steve inches over to make more room for Tony to sit on his bed.

 

He tries not to hold his breath as Tony tentatively sits down. “So. Uh,” Steve scrambles for another topic of conversation as Tony scoops up a dime-size amount of the pale gel onto his fingertips. “Will you be staying? On the team?”

 

The first touch of Tony’s fingertips against his scarred face is too gentle but when he realizes the touch isn’t causing pain, the pressure gradually increases. Tony’s eyes stay locked on the pink scars covering the right side of Steve’s face. _No._

 

With a surprised blink, Steve turns to look at Tony but he gets an annoyed _tsk_ for his trouble. “Hold still,” Tony chides him.

 

Eyes looking across his room, Steve says,  _Sounds like you are. Everything you’ve been working on with Rhodey, T’challa, and Carol..._

 

_Pepper'd fillet me if I went back into the suit full-time._

 

Steve snorts at the mental image that pops up in Tony's mind. _She'd understand. You’ve never hidden who you are from her. She knows what she signed up for when she married you._

  
_Doesn't mean I have to deliver on that either,_ Tony sighs tiredly, fingers rubbing the balm into Steve’s forehead.  _I never planned to do this all my life. I just want to make sure I'm leaving on a good note._

 

Steve thinks to how he'd asked Sam to be the next Cap and nods.  _We're trusting the right people with our legacy._

  
_Yeah. We need to pass the torch._

 

They hold each other's gaze for a long few seconds. Steve soaks in the hazy happiness that blossoms in him as Tony searches his gaze.

 

_ Have you thought about what I said?  _

 

Steve tilts his head minutely to the side. _You mean about staying here as a mentor? Team coach or whatever?_

 

Tony nods. There’s barely any indication of it on his face but in his mind, a hopeful feeling grows. Steve looks away, exhaling quietly. He hates to burst Tony’s bubble like this...

 

_I don't know Tony...I don’t think I’m cut out for that. More than that..._

 

Steve thinks of the single vial of Pym particles he's got stashed in his uniform and how he wants to go back to Peggy. To the girl who loves him. To the life he missed out on and can have now.

 

With a heavy sigh of his own, Tony closes the balm bottle. "I'm not gonna stop you from doing that. But I'll say this. I think it's a bad idea."

 

Steve looks over sharply, ready to pick a fight at the pitying feeling that rises in Tony. The other man raises his hands, palms up in surrender. "Sorry. It's just... you're not the same guy. You've got...ten odd years of experience under your belt.  It doesn't matter what year you go back to, you're not the Steve she fell in love with. And she'll be different too."

 

It’s not pity, Steve realizes suddenly. It’s something else. It feels like Tony’s hiding a memory from him. Slowly, Steve asks, "What do you mean?"

 

Tony's glances away, melancholy tinting his voice blue. "Falling in love with someone you don't even know. Someone you’ve barely met? It's setting yourself up for disappointment and failure. You wind up putting them on a pedestal. You're loving the idea of them more than the reality of them. And trust me...it's a painful lesson to learn."

 

Who is Tony talking about? Who did he fall for? But Tony keeps his walls high, not letting anything creep out except this soft, aching sadness. Steve pulls back. If Tony doesn’t want to share then Steve’s not going to push (he's learned that lesson the hard way). But at the same time, just because Tony’s experience was awful doesn’t mean that’s how it’ll be for Steve. Besides, him and Peggy are different.

 

"I won't know till I try," Steve stubbornly insists.

 

Pink amusement floats through their connection like a balloon. Tony's lips quirk up into a small smile. "You wouldn't be you if you didn’t go up against the odds."

 

\--

 

Steve bides his time, focusing on regaining full control of his right side even if all the scars haven't healed. The serum continues to fight the effects of having dual wielded the infinity gauntlet with Tony. It’s sluggish but all progress is progress. He does his PT exercises, sweating and cursing along the way with Bruce by his side. Steve hangs out with whoever is at the compound - usually Natasha, Bucky, Sam, Bruce, Thor. Tony drops by every weekend, usually by himself. And then one weekend, he brings Morgan with.

 

The dark haired girl sticks close to Tony’s side, hiding behind Tony’s legs when they walk into the living room.

 

Tony presses a gentle hand on the top of her head. “Morgan, honey, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Morgan.”

 

It takes ten minutes but between them all, they manage to coax Morgan out from her hiding place. As soon as she relaxes, she’s asking one precocious question after another. She asks Thor how come his eyes are two different colors? She asks Scott why doesn’t he have a cool weapon like the others? She asks Bruce how many lab explosions he has now that he’s big sized? She asks Steve when can she have her shield back please?

 

 _Oh yeah_ , Steve winces. On the other end of the couch, Tony hides his snicker into a soda can. _I’d forgotten about that..._

 

Steve stumbles through his explanation, telling her that he wound up breaking the shield and he’s really sorry he broke that promise. He expects tears, sulks, at worst, a tantrum.

 

"That's okay," Morgan cheerfully tells him as she hangs off Thor's arm. Steve’s surprise must be pretty obvious because Tony physically turns to look at him in worry. "Daddy'll make me a new one. One that won’t break."

 

"In Iron Man colors this time," Tony grins, knowing full well it'll make the girl throw her head back in a theatrical whine. And it does.

 

"Nooooo! I wanna Cap shield! With a star and all!"

 

Pleasantly surprised, Steve asks Tony, _She’s a Cap fan?_

 

 _The biggest,_ Tony answers with the greatest degree of fondness. _Like father, like daughter._

 

Steve tells himself he’s imagining the sudden heat under his cheeks.

 

"Perhaps you’d like your new shield to be in _my_ colors?" Thor asks.

 

Interest piqued, Morgan turns to the god. "What're they?"

 

"Uhhh,” Thrown for a loop, Thor considers the question. “Red, blue, and silver?"

 

Morgan hangs for a long considering moment before asking, “Does it have a star in it?”

 

“It would have a hammer.”

 

She drops to her feet, “No thank you.”

 

Steve smiles as the others join in, offering their own colors and motifs to try and convince the young girl to change her mind. But she groans and stands her ground. Steve feels Tony's love for the girl echo in him.

 

_I really thought she’d be an Iron Man fangirl._

 

  _You’d think right? But na. I read her a Cap comic once and the rest is history._

 

Steve watches Morgan get picked up by Bruce and thinks, _I'm going to miss this._

 

 _We're going to miss you too_ , Tony returns back, feather soft. They sit in silence, watching Scott try to convince her why having a wasp motif would be the coolest thing ever. _When're you gonna leave?_

 

Steve hesitates a beat. Bruce has given him a mostly clean bill of health. But there’s a couple of loose ends to wrap up. He’s so nervous about this. But he’s wished for this opportunity for more than ten years. Now that it’s in his grasp, he’s not going to let it go. Not again. So nerves or not, Steve’s going to do it.

 

_Soon. In a few days. Probably Thursday._

 

_Okay._

 

\--

 

Unsurprisingly, Tony's there to see him off. He stands there, hands in his pockets, quietly observing how Steve’s cleaned up his room. Tony nudges the boxes Steve’d stacked against the door, the ones marked 'Donate.'

 

“Everything ready?”

 

“Yeah,” Steve exhales as he slips his jacket on. “I think so.”

 

There’s just one last thing to do. Steve picks up a dusty box, one he’s kept hidden for years, and holds it out towards Tony. _This is yours. I kept it safe._

 

Raising an eyebrow, Tony walks closer and accepts the box. He shakes it lightly even as he asks, _What’s in here?_

 

 _Your heart._  Steve feels his cheeks warming as he hurriedly corrects himself, "The RT."

 

Tony’s big brown eyes rise up to stare at him. He feels Tony’s confusion morph into something cotton-candy softness as he realizes what Steve’s talking about. Tony smiles softly down at the box as he opens the lid.

 

 _I can’t believe you kept it..._ Tony smiles down at the RT glowing in the box.

 

 _Of course I did.It was yours. You gave it to me. I tried to keep it safe._ Steve stumbles over the explanation, hands in his pockets.

 

Tony’s wondrous smiles softens when he looks up at Steve. Tucking the box under his arm, Tony holds his hand out. “Good luck. I hope you find what you're looking for."

_We’ll be here if you need a home to come back to_.

 

Grateful, Steve accepts the hand and gives it a firm shake. "Thank you Tony."  _For everything_.

 

Steve keys in 1940. Looks up to take one last look at Tony, and allows himself to think, _You mean a lot to me, you know._

 

_Same._ _More than you'll ever know._

 

Steve tilts his head, wondering what is that supposed to mean when Tony says, "Go. Get your dance." _Find your happy ending._

 

Blessing given (and received), Steve presses the button. The suit activates with a soft hiss. Steve holds his breath.

 

_I love you too you know. Always have._

 

_What?_

 

The future blinks out.

 

\--

 

Steve staggers as soon as he lands, heart slamming against his ribs as he struggles to process what just happened.

 

  _Love?_

 

 

_Too?_

 

 

**_Always?_ **

 

Silence echoes back in his mind. Nausea sweeps over him.

 

"Steve?" an achingly familiar voice asks.

 

He whips around and processes two things: brown hair, red shirt. And wildly, his brain wonders, _Tony?_

 

A blink and his eyes refocus. No. Not Tony. "Peggy," Steve breathes out.

 

She stares at him like he's a ghost, fingers clenched into the doorway. He's probably staring at her much the same way.

 

 _The ghost of regrets passed_ , he thinks. There’s no tired sigh or a matching dry quip back. The thought just bounces back. It suddenly feels like Steve’s missing a limb.

 

He sees Peggy's eyes rake over his face and the white scars there. Confusion, caution, concern pass through her eyes before she settles on caution. She keeps her distance as well. Steve wants to smile.

 

"What happened? Last I knew...you crashed your plane."

 

Steve exhales. "It's a long story. Can I come in?"

 

\--

 

Steve gives her the cliff notes; when he's from, what he went through, why he’s back. Naturally, she’s deeply skeptical of his story. She’s seen many amazing things, but time travel isn’t an easily believable story. And Steve can’t very well take her to Antarctica to show her his frozen counterpart. He shows her his cellphone as proof, heart aching when she pauses on a group photo of all the Avengers. It’s from before the Accords, at the compound. Tony had dropped by with some papers and gotten pulled into running exercises with them. It’s a memory of better times.

 

 _I’ve made my choice,_ Steve has to remind himself. _I wanted to be back here with Peggy. This is what I want. Who I want._

 

Peggy’s hand trembles as she holds the phone out. Steve tenderly holds her hand between both of his and asks, “Do you believe me now?”

 

She exhales, “Yes.” Her eyes fill with tears as she presses her free hand against his cheek. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”

 

“Never,” he swears.

 

\--

 

He gets his dance. His date. His girl. The life he’s imagined, yearned for  for so long.

 

So why is he unhappy?

 

Why does Steve struggle to fall asleep at night? Why does he watch the slow rise and fall of Peggy's chest and feel dissatisfied? Why does he feel so unfulfilled? Why does he feel so _unsettled?_

 

Every day he misses at least five things from the future that’d made his life easier. That’s something he’d considered a cost worth paying. But he hadn’t realized how much he’d miss the _people_ from the future too. He’d thought...he’d convinced himself that was a cost he could bear. Because this has been his dream for years and years. It’s the fantasy he’d kept returning to since he woke up in 2012. What if I could go back? I wish there was some way to return to my time. He’s imagined his life with Peggy a hundred million ways.

 

And now that he’s living it...

 

He freezes mid-argument one day when the epiphany strikes him. It’s a cold realization.

 

_I don’t want this life._

 

Steve stares at Peggy as she angrily stares out the window, visibly fuming. This isn't what he'd imagined things to be like. Sure he’d thought there’d be difficult times but...he'd thought...he'd imagined...Fuck.

 

_Tony was right._

 

Steve staggers back into the couch, hand on his eyes. “This was a mistake,” he whispers.

 

“Moving to LA for my job?” Peggy snarks back. “Yes, you’ve made that _abundantly_ clear, Steve. God forbid I want to prioritize my career above-”

 

“No.” Steve interrupts her, heart sinking in his shoes as he turns towards to face her. “ _Us._ Me coming back to be with you... _that_ was a mistake.”

 

Stricken, Peggy asks, in an uncharacteristically soft voice, “What are you saying?”

 

Feeling sick to his stomach, Steve tries to collect his thoughts. “I...I thought...I thought what I wanted was to be back in my time. This, now. But...I was fooling myself. I told a friend once that a different guy came out of the ice...but I never thought that also meant...I made a mistake.”

 

 _Sometimes what you want, isn’t what you need_ , he remembers Sam telling him so many years ago.

 

Sorrow and guilt have him lowering his gaze. He’s made such a mess of things again. Steve distantly realizes he’s shaking, swaying a little in his seat as he tries not to fall apart at the realization that he’s been wrong for _so long_. He throttles the urge to laugh when he realizes, he’s become the man out of time yet again.

 

It’s exactly what Tony had said: Steve had idealized Peggy to a ridiculous extent. Love is well and good but imagining what someone is like, what your life can be like with them, can lead to a lot of disappointment when you experience them. And while she’s everything that Steve remembered, there’s a lot more to her that he’d never seen. He’s been back for seven months and it’s felt like a struggle to make this work every day. The honey-gold halo that had softened their first few fights has long faded. Steve’s still struggling to understand Peggy. He’s often caught her staring at him with such confusion, like he’s a puzzle she can’t even begin to understand.

 

“What are you trying to say?” Peggy asks, voice so soft and scared. She doesn’t look like the fearless soldier who’d clocked out a cocky bastard during training. She looks on the cusp of defeat, pale faced and teary eyed.

 

Taking a deep breath, Steve looks for the courage to make the hardest choice he’s ever had to make.

 

\--

 

Before he leaves, Steve writes Peggy a letter. It takes him most of the night but he’s satisfied with what he’s written. As he places the letter on top of the folded blankets, Steve is filled with a sense of calm. This is the right call to make. He’s told her about HYDRA and how they’ll infiltrate SHIELD. He urges her to prioritize the finding and rehabilitation of Bucky Barnes. He tells her to warn Howard Stark, to remind him that his duty lies with his family and his son. He wishes her all the happiness in the world.

 

 _You’ll be Director of SHIELD one day_ , he’s written in the letter. _And you’ll do it with a husband and two kids by your side. I’ve seen it. So you know you can do it. It’s your future_.

 

Steve’s dug out the time travel device Tony had made for them out of its hiding place. He straps it on.

 

 _It’s time to go home,_ he thinks giddily and presses the button.

 

\--

 

Eidetic memory he may have but it takes him a while to remember what time he should return to the future. The date’s easy enough. But the time? Steve can’t remember. He’d forgotten a lot about the morning he’d left because everything had paled in comparison to Tony’s confession. It takes less than ten seconds to travel between two time points using the quantum realm. Steve finds himself wishing it was even shorter. He’s a little light-headed with anticipation, looking forward to seeing the look on Tony’s face when he tells the man that he’s back. That he’s choosing Tony, the future, in whatever capacity he can have.

 

And he’ll finally, finally, _finally_ be able to get an answer to Tony’s ill-timed confession.

 

\--

 

Steve lands in his room in the middle of the night. Weak moonlight falls in through the open blinds. It’s just enough light for him to see the boxes stacked against the wall. Steve fumbles around, squinting at each box until he finds the one marked “Electronics” and tears the tape open.

 

“Captain Rogers?” FRIDAY asks from overhead. Steve jumps as he digs through a small mountain of tangled up wires. “Is that you?”

 

“Oh _fuck_ ,” he wheezes, almost driving his head into the box. He’d forgotten all about the AI. “You scared the shit out of me.”

 

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intent,” the AI apologizes. “What are you doing back? We thought you’d gone back in time?”

 

“I had but I came back. How long was I gone?”

 

“Six hours and twenty-one minutes.”

 

_Okay. Okay...That’s not too bad._

 

“What time is it right now? And oh, can you turn on the lights please? Uh, at 50%?”

 

“It is two minutes past midnight,” FRIDAY answers as she turns the lights on.

 

Nodding, Steve sifts through the cables until he finds the right charging cable and plugs his dead cellphone in. He needs just enough juice in the this to...wait. “FRIDAY, where’s Tony? Is he still on the compound?”

 

“Boss returned home about an hour after you left.”

 

Tentatively, Steve reaches out to Tony through their bond, wondering, hoping, daring, with his heart in his throat, to hear Tony’s voice after being alone in his head for so long. It _shocks_ him, the realization of how _much_ he’s missed Tony. It only hits him now when he’s standing there alone in his room, reaching out to the man who has somehow always worn his bleeding heart on his sleeve but fooled people to believe otherwise.

 

_Tony?_

 

There’s nothing back. No surprise or wonder or delight. Steve’s hope plummets, wondering if somehow being back in the past has broken their connection, when he feels something...it’s a warm, comforting sensation. Like lying underneath a weighted blanket. He hears the faintest echos of half-formed calculations that disappear into a comfortable nothingness.

 

Steve’s shocked by the tears that well in his eyes.

 

“FRIDAY,” he asks shakily, “How fast can I get to Tony?”

 

“If you take the quinjet, it’ll take fifteen minutes. It’s three hours by car.”

 

Fuck the car. He’s taking the damn jet.

 

\--

 

Admittedly, Steve’s not thought this through _but_ he hasn’t wanted to either. It’s the complete opposite of wanting to return to Peggy in that sense. He’d imagined their reunion every which way possible. But he’d never allowed himself to wonder what returning to Tony would be like. The nervous pounding of his heart only grows worse as he pilots the quinjet to Tony’s lake house.

 

Steve’s vision is swimming as he walks up the dark porch and rings the doorbell. He slams his thumb down on the buzzer and lets it go on.

 

 _That’ll piss Tony off,_ he thinks with a wild grin.

 

Sure enough, after about a straight minute of the doorbell buzzing, he hears Tony muzzily grumbling, _Who the fuck is that? I’m gonna punch ‘em in the nose. Fucking asshole. Who shows up at someone’s home at...fucking midnight? Fuck shit dammit!_

 

Steve feels himself grin, joy rising in him like bubbles in a glass of freshly poured champagne. _I’ve missed you so fucking much_.

 

The _happiness_ he feels hearing Tony in his head again leaves Steve _physically_ breathless. He laughs when he feels shock roll through Tony.

 

 _Steve_? The incredulity there has butterflies slamming against his insides. _Is that you? What the fuck- What the fuck are you- Are you outside my door?_

 

_Come and see for yourself._

 

Steve shifts from foot to foot, nervous anticipation making him want to run, jump, skip. But he has to stand still as he hears frantic footsteps running down the stairs while Tony’s scrambled half-questions form and die between them. Steve jerks forward, almost slamming his nose into the glass door, when he sees Tony skidding a little as he hits the landing, arms flailing a little before he regains his balance and turns to face the front door. Through the glass windows, their eyes meet.

 

 _Holy shit_ , Tony breathes out.

 

 _Tony_ , Steve exhales in relief.

 

As soon as Tony opens the door, Steve’s grabbing Tony’s face and kissing him as hard as he can. For a heartbeat, Tony’s frozen against him and Steve thinks, _Fuck, fuck, fuck. I fucked it up. I’m so sorry. I messed up_.

 

And then Tony whispers, _Shut up_ , and kisses him back.

 

\--

 

_You told me you loved me right before I left._

 

_I thought it was my last chance to ever tell you._

 

_How long have you-_

 

_Almost all my life._

 

_But you said you hated me._

 

_I did. I hated you but I also admired the fuck out of you. You were my hero for so long. And then I met you and hated you all over again before I realized that the person behind the mask? Was a lot better than all the stories my dad told me._

 

_Do you still love me?_

 

 _I don’t think it’s possible for me to_ not _love you._ Hesitation bleeds from Tony as he clings to Steve's arms, fingertips sunk firmly into warm skin. He bumps their noses together, panting softly as they pull apart, foreheads touching. “Why’d you come back?

 

“For you,” Steve whispers back, slowly opening his eyes. Tony’s staring back at him, big brown eyes widening in wonder. “I came back because I realized I wanted you more than I wanted a dream.”

 

_So you..._

 

_I still love you. I never stopped._

 

_But...what about Peggy?_

 

 _Sometimes, what you want isn’t what you need. And I need you Tony._ Steve closes his eyes and whispers, “I need you. I know it’s selfish and I know all I do is ask things from you but I promise this is the last time. Just...please... _please_ don’t send me away.”

 

Steve’s offering his imperfect, inexperienced, inept heart; laying it down at Tony’s feet for judgement. Tony’s shallow breathing sounds so _loud_ in the space between them. Steve bites down on a whimper when he feels Tony take half a step back. He feels so _cold_.

 

But then Tony’s yanking him in for a hug that’s too hard and too tight; it's perfect because Steve feels all the way down to his toes. “You fucking idiot,” Tony curses roughly in his ear. “I told you this was your home, didn’t I? Did you forget that part?”

 

_You’ll always have me, you moron. Haven’t I proven that enough times already?_

 

Steve buries his face in Tony’s shoulder with a relieved sob. _Sorry. I'm such an idiot. I’m so sorry, Tony. I’ll make it up to you. I promise I will._

 

\--

 

They wait until Morgan’s busy playing outside before they talk, all three of them. Tony sits with Pepper on the couch and Steve sits on the single-seater facing them. Steve, being Steve, starts the conversation by turning to Pepper and apologizing right off the bat. “I’m sorry I kissed Tony last night but I love him and I wanted him to know that.”

 

Blessed, beautiful, amazing Pepper blinks at the confession and drawls, “ _Okay._  Thanks for telling me, I guess?”

 

The deadpan response and how it has Steve’s stubborn expression melting into confusion sends Tony into a small fit of internal giggles. Steve catches his eye at that and relaxes, smiling sheepishly at the couple before he tries again, “Sorry. I just...truth is I couldn’t help myself. Seeing him again after months...”

 

Pepper knows about the telepathic bond between them, obviously. So when she turns to Tony, silently asking him to verify what Steve’s saying, he nods. Tony feels a little tingly remembering how he’d woken up last night; the wave of nervous-happy anticipation that had swelled and swelled until the bubble had popped when he’d thrown the front door open. Remembering that kiss sends a shiver down Tony's spine.

 

Steve shoots him a shy smile that makes Tony want to swoon a little because _Jesus_. That look is fucking dangerous and Tony’s an old man with a weak heart.

 

 _A little over dramatic, don’t you think?_ Steve teases him.

 

_Says the guy who used a military-grade stealth plane to fly to see me instead of a car like a regular person._

 

Steve ignores him but there’s a fetching pink tint to his ears that makes Tony grin like a fool.

 

“You done?” Pepper asks, interrupting their little tete-a-tete with a wry smile. They both jump like guilty boys at that, making Pepper’s smile grow. He’s forgotten she was there. She turns to Steve and asks, “Can you tell us what happened? Why you came back?”

 

Tony’d gotten the cliff notes from Steve the night before. He settles in to hear the details now. Steve tells them about his reunion and his attempt at a relationship with Peggy. Mostly he talks about why it didn’t work. Tony can’t help but sympathize for Steve but Steve shoots him a small smile.

 

_It’s okay. I’m glad I at least tried. No more regrets this way._ Tony smiles wanly at that. Steve moves on to why he chose to come back. Which is the part where he finally hesitates, glancing at Tony as he asks, _Does she know that you like me?_

 

_She knows, yeah._

 

When Steve’s done explaining himself, wrapping up with a nervous ‘and that’s the whole story’ gesture, Pepper asks the all important question. “So. What do we do now?”

 

“I’m thinking a. we keep him and b. work out a timeshare,” Tony quips.

 

“He’s not a stray you can take in or a piece of property you own” Pepper reminds him in the tone of someone who has long since gotten used to Tony’s Tony-ness. Steve meanwhile looks like he’s either going to melt through the floor in embarrassment or fight for what he wants, no matter what. It’s adorable and he tells Steve so.

 

_Relax. Everything’ll be alright_ _._

 

_But...I just told Pepper I love you and I want to be with you. You’re_ married _._

 

Tony grins. _All true. But that doesn’t mean there’s_ no _solution to this._

 

Pepper’s asking Steve, “What do you want Steve? Ideally?”

 

The question throws Steve for a clear loop; obviously he hadn't thought what he wanted would be a factor in this whole conversation. Tony can feel him struggling between telling the truth and managing his expectations; should he try to do the "right" thing or should he be selfish? Tony quickly sends some reassurance towards Steve, and urges him to tell the truth. _No more secrets, remember?_

 

Steve exhales shortly before he firmly tells Pepper, “I want to be with Tony too. I love him.”

 

“Was that so hard to admit?” she teases him with a twinkle in her eye.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Steve breathes out with a laugh. "It _was_!"

 

\--

 

“Are you okay with this?” Steve asks Pepper later, after Tony goes to fetch Morgan out of the yard for lunch. They’re plating up the chicken and tomato soup that’d been bubbling away on the stove during their conversation. “Really okay with this?”

 

Steve can’t help but worry that maybe Pepper’s saying this, doing all this, for Tony’s sake. Like she’s making some kind of compromise. Mostly, he’s worried he might wind up the reason behind a wonderful, loving marriage falling apart.

 

Tony snorts in his mind. _Melodramatic._

 

 _Shut up,_ Steve peevishly replies and mentally sticks his tongue out for good measure as well. Tony’s laughter unwillingly pulls Steve’s lips up in a tiny smile. Pepper finishes pouring the stew into a deep bowl and hands it over to Steve.

 

“I am honestly very okay with this,” she tells him. “I’m not even that surprised if I’m completely honest.”

 

“You’re...not?” Steve asks, feeling utterly baffled. “You...Why not?”

 

“Well, I already knew Tony liked you since he was a kid. And the way he’d talk about you? The reactions you pulled out of him?” Pepper shakes her head as she pulled a bread knife off the magnetic block. “In a way, I’ve been sharing him with you long before you even realized.”

 

 _Well that’s embarrassing_ , Steve realizes as he hurriedly transfers the large soup pot over to the table.

 

 _What is?_ Tony asks.

 

_Apparently Pepper’s not surprised about all of this._

 

_That’s Pepper for you. She’s got a degree in psychology you know. Makes her a whiz at reading people. That’s probably why she knew._

 

_I guess..._

 

Pepper’s still talking Steve realizes with a small jolt.

 

“-- extending it to a physical relationship isn’t going to be easy to get used to but we’re all adults here. We’ll work our way to it. And we’ve got one big thing in our favor.”

 

Steve steps next to her before asking, “What’s that?”

 

Her smile is _radiant_ when she says, “We both love Tony. And Tony loves us both.”

 

\--

 

She’s right.

 

_Of course she is, she’s Pepper_.

 

_ True.  _

 

\--

 

This isn’t the life he’d ever imagined, being Tony’s boyfriend while Tony is married to Pepper who is low-key seeing Happy. Honestly, the easiest way to explain their relationship is like that meme: This is Tony, my boyfriend, this is his wife, Pepper, and her boyfriend, Happy. Whatever. They make it work and _that’s_ what important. They make it work for 40 amazing years that Steve wouldn’t change in any way, shape, or form.

 

Lying on the hospital bed, head woozy thanks to the painkillers, Tony laughs softly between their bond. _Still so melodramatic_.

 

Smiling as best as he can, Steve continues to stroke the soft, paper-thin skin of Tony’s wrist. _It’s true. There’s nothing I’d change._

 

_Not even your 75th birthday party where we-_

 

 _Not even that,_ Steve laughs at the memory. He runs his hand through Tony’s silver hair, heart breaking with so much love when Tony’s dim eyes find his and he smiles through his oxygen mask. Good humor flicks like a lit match in a rainstorm in Tony's eyes; behind it there's a dull undercurrent of near constant pain just barely kept at bay by the drugs hanging off the IVs next to Tony's bedside.

 

It won’t be long now. The doctor’s have said it’s a matter of time now.

 

“There’s nothing more we can do... We’re sorry, Mr. Rogers.”

 

Steve’s got a bad feeling in his bones that tonight’s going to be the night. Don’t ask him how or why. But... Exhaling, Steve makes himself think of happier things. Of better times. Of all the kisses they’ve shared, all the dances, the dinners, the graduation parties, the birthdays, the Christmas’s...

 

Tony closes his eyes with a soft hum, obviously enjoying the slideshow Steve’s running between their bond. _ We had some good times, didn’t we? _

 

Steve swallows past the lump in his throat and squeezes Tony’s hand as tight as he dares. _The best._

 

_I did right by you, right?_

 

_You did. To me, Pepper, Morgan, Charlie, Peter, Harvey, Riri, Happy, Rhodey, Carol. All of us._

 

_I’m glad. I’m glad you came back. Did I ever tell you that?_

 

_You did. A lot. I’ll always be grateful you gave a home, a family._

 

_You deserved it. I’m just glad you picked me to love._ Tony exhales. The monotonous drone of the machines goes on and on and on. Steve squeezes his eyes shut when Tony says, so softly, _I’m feeling kind of sleepy._

 

 _Go to sleep, darling._ Steve kisses the back of Tony’s hand, away from the cannula.

 

_Can you get in here with me?_

 

It’s an awful idea but he’s more awful at saying no to Tony. Swallowing hard, Steve blinks past his tears and climbs into the hospital bed with care. He does his best not to jostle Tony as he slips his arm around the older man’s frail body. Steve presses his cheek against Tony’s thinned silver hair and breathes in his comforting scent. Tony weakly curls his hand into Steve’s shirt, shifting a little until he exhales.

 

_That’s better._

 

_Hmm?_

 

_I can hear your heartbeat now._

 

 _Oh._ Steve feels hot tears run down his nose and into Tony’s hair. _I’m glad_.

 

_Mm. I’m gonna sleep now._

 

_Okay. Sweet dreams, Tony._

 

\--

 

Steve stares sightlessly at the cardiac monitor, watching the steady sharp peaks grow irregular for an eternity before they flatten into a whining plateau. He does nothing to stop the tears from falling.

 

\--

 

Tony’s funeral is a private affair for friends and family only.

 

Steve stands next to Morgan and Charlie, the siblings leaning on each other as they watch their father be lowered into the ground next to their mother. Morgan’s got a death grip on his hand that keeps Steve grounded. She doesn’t let go for hours and for that, he’s grateful. Because if it wasn’t for her touch, he’d be staggering every few minutes at the realization that Tony’s not _there_ anymore. His mind is empty; it’s a barren wasteland where his thoughts echo. He's lost without Tony's thoughts puttering around in his head, bumping into Steve's own thoughts.

 

The wake goes on for hours in their lake house. Food is eaten, stories are exchanged, a life is celebrated. Steve sits in the middle of this somber chaos and hopes Tony is watching, hopes he realizes how beloved he was.

 

 _I miss you, I miss you so much,_ Steve thinks over and over again, aching in a way that has him repeatedly touching his chest. He’s surprised every time not to find any blood on his fingertips because it feels like he’s wounded and bleeding.

 

“Dad?” Charlie slides up to him at one point and softly asks, “You okay?”

 

Steve smiles faintly at his son. He looks so much like Tony it _hurts_. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

 

\--

 

Steve sits on their bed that night, unable to fall asleep. _It’s too quiet,_ he tells no one as he turns the bedside lamp back on. Steve pulls on his robe, the nice blue silk one that Pepper’d gotten him for his 63rd birthday - the one before she’d left them all - and shuffles downstairs.

 

He pauses outside the kids’ doors, listening to their peaceful breathing before he heads down. Steve sits in front of the TV for a long moment before he asks, “JACOSTA?”

 

“Yes, Steve?” the AI asks.

 

“Can you pull up the home videos?”

 

“Certainly. Which year would you like?”

 

Steve pulls the afghan he’d knitted for Tony into his lap and leans back into the sofa. “Our Italy vacation. After the hand fasting ceremony. What was that...’25? ‘26?”

 

“2025,” JACOSTA corrects him as she loads the video.

 

“Thank you, JACOSTA.”

 

“You’re most welcome, Steve.”

 

\--

 

Morgan’s not an early riser. The only one of them who’d always be up before 7AM was Steve. Not even mom would get up before 7AM, saying that as much as she liked early morning, anything before 7AM was barbaric. Morgan thinks 11AM is a perfectly sensible time for mornings to begin but no one ever agreed with her, not even dad.

 

It’s why she’s surprised to find herself wide awake at 6:37AM on the morning after her dad’s funeral. She lies in bed, staring at the walls of her childhood bedroom, and wonders why she’s awake so early. It’s quiet outside; no birds singing obnoxiously loud, no boats puttering around. So why is she awake?

 

Morgan ponders this for a couple of minutes before she gives up and decides to get up. Might as well make breakfast for everyone if she’s awake. She pauses in the hallway, staring for a long moment at her parents bedroom door, wondering if Steve’s awake and if he’s okay before deciding she’ll talk to him when he wakes up. He’d seemed in _such_ a bad way yesterday. Not that she can blame him. He’s the last of their parental figures to survive. And Morgan honestly can’t imagine that. Outliving the people you love? It must be awful.

 

She bites her lip, tears welling in her eyes as she remembers the sight of Steve and dad in the hospital bed. She’s seen Steve sad. She’s seen him depressed. But she’s never seen him look so _dead_ as he’d looked when the nurse had gently asked him to leave the bed so that they could prepare her dad’s body.

 

 _Fuck_ , she thinks as tears well into her eyes. She rubs the back of her hand over her eyes. It’s so hard to believe that dad’s gone. Her breath hitches so bad she has stop on top of the staircase and cry. She sits on the stairs and sobs, missing her dad and his stupid sense of humor, his gadgets, his voice. Morgan cries in a way she hasn’t since she was a little girl and _aches_ for her dad’s arms and unconditional love.

 

Eventually however, the tears stop. Wiping her face clean, Morgan sniffs a couple of times before telling herself, “Okay. _Okay_. Breakfast.”

 

She needs to focus on what needs to be done. There’s a lot of things they need to do still. But first, food. Like Uncle Happy used to say, can’t work on an empty stomach. Morgan’s debating between pancakes and sausages or waffles and fruit when she realizes the TV’s on. There’s a movie playing...

 

 _Oh_ , she realizes. _It’s dad and Steve’s hand fasting ceremony_.

 

Gaze darting towards the couch, she sees Steve’s pale head resting against the back of the sofa. _Did he spent the night down here watching old home videos?_ Morgan’s heart aches in a whole new way, the cracks caused by her father's passing throbbing as they deepened minutely. She takes care to step quietly as she walks over to Steve. As she walks around the couch, Morgan realizes that Steve’s asleep.

 

On screen, a more youthful Steve kisses her dad while Pepper and Happy enthusiastically clap from either side of the couple. A dense curtain of white and pink flower petals take over the screen for a few seconds, hiding the kissing couple from the camera lens. 

 

“Steve?” Morgan calls out softly.

 

Steve doesn’t stir. The pale morning light has turned Steve’s mostly silver hair gold again. She smiles a little at the effect, remembering the poem from Lord of the Rings and all the times she'd snuggled under Steve's arm, ready or watching that story. Carefully, she sits down on the sofa and touches Steve’s shoulder, ready to shake him awake, thinking maybe tonight they could all sit down and rewatch Lord of the Rings together; that movie always cheers Steve up.

 

But she freezes immediately.

 

Steve’s... _cold_. And stiff.

 

Morgan’s breathing judders, slamming face first against the back of her teeth. With her heart in her throat, she presses trembling fingers to Steve’s pulse point. On screen, Steve and dad dance together, swaying in place with their foreheads touching. Lungs hiccuping, Morgan feels her strength seep into the ground. She pulls back, leaning heavily against the sofa as she stares at Steve's body.

 

“Fuck,” she whispers to the room. “ _Fuck_...”

 

The home video changes; a sudden burst of baby babbles have Morgan starting badly. On screen, Steve’s holding his hands out towards a young Charlie, encouraging him to walk towards him with a broad smile. Dad’s hovering behind Steve, an intensely hopeful look on his face. Mom whispers something in Charlie’s ear before she lets him go. And sure enough, he toddles towards Steve, gaining speed when both men cry out with happiness.

 

“JACOSTA,” Morgan calls out, hating how wobbly her voice is. “Please turn the videos off.”

 

“Of course, Morgan.”

 

It’s too quiet. It’s too fucking quiet.

 

Morgan doesn’t know what to do. Who does she call? Maybe Auntie Carol? Oh shit. She should tell the others. God...this is going to break Charlie. She looks at Steve’s stiff posture and decides she’ll lay him down. It...It doesn’t feel right that he’s sitting up and...

 

She doesn’t follow that train of thought. Instead, she stands up and tries to get Steve to lie down. She pulls the afghan out of the way and stops when she sees he’s got a picture pressed against his stomach. With a cautious, apologetic glance at Steve’s peaceful face, Morgan pulls the picture out his stiff fingers. It’s a picture of dad with DUM-E. He’s got goggles on his head, a mini-torch between his teeth, and a screwdriver in hand. He’s got both legs wrapped around DUM-E’s strut and a look of frustrated amusement on his face. It’s the most ridiculous picture of dad she’s ever seen and it brings a fresh wave of tears to her eyes.

 

There’s a lot of things that she’s taken for granted in her life. Her mother’s love. Her father’s attention. Happy’s support. Steve’s presence. Their existence have been eternal and unquestioned in her life. They’re the facts of life. And one of these facts is... _was_ that Steve loves... _loved_ her dad. It kind of blindsides her in this moment that...she hadn’t realized _how much_ the man had loved her father. Bottom-lip trembling, Morgan returns the picture to its place and walks to the stairs, pausing to have another little breakdown before she completes her journey and knocks on Charlie’s door. She knocks and knocks and knocks until a sleepy Charlie opens the door.

 

“What’s the fucking problem?” he grumbles.

 

Morgan breathes out through her mouth, nose stuffed to hell and back, “Charlie...”

 

He blinks at her, eyes sharpening in worry when he sees her tears “What? What is it?”

 

“It’s Steve,” she chokes out.

 

\--

 

 _What is this place?_ Steve wonders, turning around in a slow circle.

 

He’s trying to make sense of where he is and why his hands are lacking all their wrinkles and liver spots when an oh-so-familiar voice teasingly asks him, “You just couldn’t live without me, could you?”

 

 _Tony!_ He thinks delightedly, turning to the voice. Steve’s elation turns to surprise and wonder when he sees his partner. Tony’s standing a couple of feet away. His hair is dark, his face unlined with wrinkles.

 

His eyes sparkle with happiness as he asks, _I knew I’d have to wait for you, but I didn’t think you’d show up this fast._

 

 _Oh,_ it clicks for Steve. His breathes out the epiphany before he refocuses. Tony’s sauntered up to him, grin softening. _Well. I just missed you too much._

 

 _Always so dramatic,_ Tony teases fondly as he holds his hand out. His wedding rings glint.

 

Steve happily accepts, linking their fingers together. _Where’re we going?_

 

_Where ever you want to go._

 

_As long as you’re by my side, I don’t care._

 

The happiness that flows from Tony and into him could send Steve floating. Instead, he grins and pulls Tony in for a warm kiss that turns into two, three, four.

 

_I love you._

 

_I love you too. Always and Forever._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm never using work skins again so help me God


End file.
